


15. Sweet Gingerbread House

by YlvaUllsdotter



Series: SPN Advent Calendar 2018 [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean has a sweet tooth, Dean x Reader, Dean x Reader established relationship, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Gingerbread House, Reader Insert, SPN - Freeform, Smut, Spanking, Supernatural - Freeform, accidental smut, but smut adjacent, dean winchester x reader - Freeform, not really smut, spnadventcalendar2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 13:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17002572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: Baking the pieces for the gingerbread house was fine, but putting it together turns out to be impossible. Because Dean keeps eating the pieces.





	15. Sweet Gingerbread House

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [@notfunnydean](https://notfunnydean.tumblr.com/)’s SPN Advent Calendar. December 15.   
> I meant to write fluff, I swear.

You pulled the baking sheet holding the last of the building pieces for the gingerbread house from the oven and set them to cool. It felt like every surface of the kitchen was covered in cooling gingerbread, and the vision you had in your mind of the finished house made you smile. 

Placing the sign on top of the last pieces, an identical sign to all the others sitting by every piece of gingerbread, you set the timer on your phone and went to relax with a book for a while.

You returned to the kitchen just in time to see Dean with a gingerbread door halfway to his mouth.

“Dean! No!”

He looked at you with such a guilty expression, you almost laughed.

“Aw, c’mon, Y/N,” he whined. “It smells so good!”

“I don’t care. You cannot eat my gingerbread house,” you frowned at the hunter, who pouted and set the piece back down.

“Dunno what we need a gingerbread house for anyways,” he muttered sulkily.

“Because it’s Christmassy, and I want it,” you replied, starting to sort the pieces. Softening at his adorable pout, you smiled at him. “You wanna help me put it together?”

“I guess,” Dean shrugged, but you caught the glimmer of glee in his eyes before he turned away.

You sorted all the pieces onto two trays which you set on the table, along with a piping bag full of white frosting, and a bowl of melted sugar sitting on top of a hot plate to keep it liquid. While Dean sat down, eyeing the cookie pieces, you turned away to grab a muffin pan filled with various types of candy.

Before you set the candy down you gave Dean a stern look.

“No eating the candy either! You can have whatever’s left over after the house is assembled.”

“Ugh, fine. Buzzkill.”

As you propped the walls against each other, and brushed the melted sugar on to keep them together, your eyes filled with tears at the memories of your family doing this together. It still hurt to know that you would never do this with them again, but at least you had the Winchesters and Castiel, and now Jack as well. You had found a new family, and you loved them fiercely.

“Hand me the other wall, will you, Dean?” you held out your hand, waiting for him to put the requested item in it. When nothing happened, you looked up.

Dean’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed quickly. With a sheepish grin, he handed you the piece you had asked for.

“What did you eat?” you sighed.

“It was just a little piece,” Dean defended himself. 

“Great, now the house won’t have a chimney. Dammit, Dean,” you grumbled, taking the wall piece he was still holding and attaching it to the other two. “I swear, you have a sweet tooth worse than Gabriel.”

Dean scoffed, but when you looked up he was already eyeing another of the chimney pieces.

“Dean, I swear to Chuck, if you eat another piece I’ll make you regret it,” you growled, his eyes shifting back to you.

“It’s all your fault, y’know,” Dean retorted.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. If you weren’t so good at baking, I wouldn’t eat all the cookies,” he grinned victoriously while you just shook your head at him.

“Whatever, cookie monster. Hand me the last wall piece.”

“Uhm…”

Dean’s tone made you look up from where you were fitting the cookie pieces together, only to see him holding half a wall.

“It broke on its own, I swear!” 

“Sure it did,” you growled, carefully pushing the already assembled pieces away from you before standing. “C’mon,” you grabbed the front of Dean’s shirt and pulled him with you to your room.

Closing and locking your door, you went and sat down at the foot of the bed before looking at Dean, who was standing where you deposited him with a confused expression. You crooked a finger at him and he shuffled forward until he was standing in front of you. In moments, his pants and boxers were pulled down to mid-thigh and you patted your lap.

“Bad boys who can’t stop eating cookies get spanked. C’mere,” you told him, the corner of your mouth twitching at his eager expression.

In less time than it took to explain it, Dean was over your lap, his bare ass right in front of you and his cock trapped against your thigh. You could feel it twitch when your hands squeezed his butt cheeks.

Without any warning, you landed a slap on his ass. Dean hissed in a breath through clenched teeth, his muscles tensing. And his cock twitched again, almost fully hard already. 

“I told you not to eat the gingerbread, Dean,” you told him, as you landed another slap on the other cheek.

Dean wiggled on your lap, his cock twitching against your leg. “Yeah. You did. I’m sorry,” he groaned breathlessly.

“I’m not convinced you are,” you retorted calmly, landing a slap on each cheek.

“Uhh! I am, I am, I swear. I’m sorry,” he insisted, his hips rolling against you, seeking friction.

“We’ll see. Stay still,” you ordered, and you felt him brace himself before you rained a series of slaps on his ass. 

Dean arched his back and grunted with the effort of obeying your command when what he really wanted was to writhe away from the spanking while also grinding his cock against you. 

Almost as suddenly as it began, the barrage ended and the room filled with the sound of Dean’s panting breaths.

“Y/N, please…”

“Please, what, Dean?”

Instead of answering, he rubbed his cock against your leg and groaned again. “Please…”

“No,” you said simply, nudging him to get off your lap. 

He stood there, looking frustrated, his cock hard and leaking.

“Put your pants back on, Dean. I have a gingerbread house to finish,” you cocked your head and smiled sweetly at him.

His frustrated groan followed you out of the room, making you grin. 


End file.
